


Naked & Willing

by haldoor



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Barely Legal, Community: 1_million_words, Dammit Jim, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, vaguely cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6701527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haldoor/pseuds/haldoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Warnings:</b> Threesome sex; just barely legal age sex; no spoilers for any actual scenes (though don’t we wish it was?) ;-P<br/><b>Disclaimer:</b> I have never remotely owned anything near like the rights to any part of the Star Trek universe; I play with the characters for my own amusement and don’t receive any payment except my own (and hopefully my readers’) pleasure!<br/><b>Beta:</b> the unparalleled <b>siluria</b>, who is always willing, if not actually naked, while reading for me<br/><b>Summary:</b> Bones knows Chekov has a crush on him; he’s doing all he can to discourage it, but James T. Kirk has other, self-involving, ideas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked & Willing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaige68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/gifts).



> This originated from a **1_million_words** prompt from one of the challenges (which one I cannot for the life of me remember) that went something like ‘one of your characters wakes up unexpectedly in in bed between two others’. This rather silly and hopefully sexy piece was the result. It is, naturally enough, written for my slash twin – my partner in crime – **kaige68** , and is just in time to be counted for April at the comm. My darlink – ENJOY!

McCoy rolled over, away from the extreme heat that was always Jim Kirk, and nuzzled into the back of a neck.

Wait… what? 

McCoy opened his eyes, careful to move slowly. He had no idea who he was behind, but it was vastly clear to him already that they were both naked.

Tilting his head back slightly, he could see Jim's furry chest gently rising and falling in his peripheral vision behind him; he definitely hadn't imagined that, then. 

Not Jim, and yet in bed with both of them. A threesome? What in hell had happened last night?

Tasting the slightly bitter aftertaste of what McCoy hoped was alcohol in his mouth, he moved his head again to study the young-looking neck in front of his face – the one he'd woken up nuzzling into – a fact that was taking some getting used to. Naturally it wasn't the first time he and Jim had wound up in bed together, but they didn't usually bring some young and fairly evidently _male_ cadet back to – McCoy had to look around a little more to figure out whose cabin and where – Kirk's quarters when they did so.

Shifting his hand from where it had fallen naturally to the waist of the youth, McCoy had just about got it clear of the sheet casually draped across all three of their waists when the boy moved. He pushed backward, his rounded ass pressing into McCoy's half-hard cock, causing a gasp to escape from McCoy's lips. Then, before he could do anything more, the kid was turning, grasping at McCoy's arm and wrapping it around his back as Chekov (!!!) shifted closer, his downy cheek resting just below McCoy's chin, while throwing a leg across McCoy's hip, making him fall onto his back. The firmness of his young cock was unmistakable, and McCoy's heart began to race as it jutted in between his legs just under his own now much harder member.

Christ! He was going to kill Jim Kirk when he woke up! The lengths the guy would go to for some fresh young flesh was ridiculous! They both knew Chekov had a crush on McCoy – it was evident in everything he said and did in his presence – but McCoy had been doing everything he could to discourage the kid.

But Jim found it hilarious, and took every opportunity to be suggestive about Chekov and McCoy, and to include anyone else in proximity in the joke each time he was doing it, so that McCoy was certain that about half the crew already thought he was screwing the kid – no matter what he did to suggest otherwise. Not to mention that Kirk was looking more and more likely to – well, it was too late for that of course – _had_ managed to entice him into his own bed instead – or actually, as well, he supposed, considering _he_ was currently in between them.

Dammit! The kid was still squirming, and oh Christ, it felt good! McCoy gave into the friction for a moment, unable to help himself, but then the quiet snicker of an awake Jim Kirk made him remember just how wrong this whole scene was.

McCoy pushed at Chekov, sliding back towards Kirk, his ass hitting Jim's bare hip as he attempted to sit up. The sheet fell away and McCoy let out a low growl as he turned to glare at Jim.

Jim Kirk, it had to be said, never took anything seriously, and would use any opportunity to get his rocks off. Prime example was the erection jutting up from his now-uncovered groin. "If you're not using that," Jim murmured sexily, "Mind if I swap places with you?"

"No! That is, I mean, I'm not using it… him! But no, you can't swap places! Jim, this is completely inappropriate! What in hell happened last night?"

Jim's smile widened, although he did cover his cock with the sheet, which helped McCoy focus on his next words. "You don't remember?"

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Would I be asking if I did?" he hissed.

"You, I have to say, surprised even me, you dirty dog. I really didn't think you had it in you. But I guess after _that_ much alcohol, even you would loosen up that tight ass of yours. Of course, it's probably a lot looser this morning, if I'm any judge." There was even a wink to accompany the last few words. 

McCoy's mouth opened and closed a few times, his face heating with embarrassment and a vague returning memory of him whispering something suggestive into Chekov's delicate young ear…

"Oh, Jesus, Jim, why didn't you stop me?"

"He was the one who asked me to come here," Chekov said sleepily from behind McCoy before Jim could answer.

"What?" McCoy almost gave himself whiplash as he turned to stare in horror at Chekov, who was lying on his side, an elbow propping him up as he smiled mock-innocently back at McCoy.

"You had been drinking, and while you were being most polite and gentlemanly towards me, the captain suggested that I should help him guide you back to his place where he could take care of you."

McCoy blinked at him, confused, and turned back to Kirk. "And that meant getting me naked into bed in between you?"

Jim shrugged. "You were naked. He was willing. What can I say?"

"I was _naked?_ At what point?"

"I have to say," Chekov put in, "It was before we got you into the cabin."

McCoy was a glutton for punishment; he went for the whiplash move again. "I took my clothes off? In public?"

"Well, no one saw, except for Captain Kirk and myself, because we didn't see anyone in the corridors, but yes..."

Turning back to Jim, McCoy was beginning to feel like the ball in a very odd tennis match. "You let me?"

Kirk held his hands out helplessly. "I tried to stop you. You said it was 'burning like the sun' and you wouldn't keep them on."

"Every time the captain or I would try to put something back on, you would take it off again, Doctor McCoy. There was nothing we could do, except get you to the Captain's quarters as fast as possible."

"You can call us Jim and Leonard when we're naked together, kid."

"No he can't!" McCoy growled. "I can't… this is… why would you... both of you… end up naked and in bed _with_ me?"

"It's okay, Chekov," Jim gestured in a placating sort of way. "Look, Bones, you wouldn't be stopped. So we got you back here and you decided that we should take our clothes off too, because…" He made air quotes. "…'if I'm gonna be naked, you should be naked too'."

McCoy frowned at Chekov for confirmation.

"Is absolutely true." Chekov nodded, an earnest expression on his face. "And it seemed… the right thing to do."

McCoy was going to turn back to Kirk, but this was getting far too ridiculous, instead he shifted from between the other two and got off the bed, grabbing a pair of shorts that were probably his from the floor and dragging them quickly on. "So, let me get this straight. You…" He pointed at Chekov. "…agreed that we should all be naked, and you…" McCoy moved his hand to point at Jim. "…were not quite sober enough to point out that I would be horrified by the idea once I was no longer drunk, and in fact you _encouraged_ such behavior?"

Jim appeared to be thinking for a moment, then his eyes shifted towards Chekov as a smug-looking smile crossed his lips, before he met McCoy's eyes and nodded. "That sounds about right."

"Please don't tell me what happened once we all got naked."

Chekov opened his mouth to speak, but McCoy held up both hands and shook his head. "I said don't tell me." 

McCoy stomped towards the bathroom, letting out a long breath of exasperation. Pressing the door control, he only wished something as satisfying as slamming the door were possible on the ship. 

As the door finally finished closing, he scowled at his reflection in the mirror, and rubbed at his chin. Thinking on the exchange they'd just had, he shifted around a little, surprised at the lack of any sore muscles. Hadn't Jim said _I guess after_ that _much alcohol, even you would loosen up that tight ass of yours. Of course, it's probably a lot looser this morning_. If he truly had allowed one of them to fuck him, he'd be feeling _something_ in a certain area of his anatomy.

There would also be other physical evidence of any sexual activity, now he thought about it. There was a distinct lack of any crustiness on his body, and he couldn't say he smelt fresh enough to say they might have showered after the alleged 'orgy' either.

Hitting the door control once more, McCoy moved into the doorway and fixed Kirk with a glare. "We didn't have sex at all, did we?" He let his eyes slide towards Chekov, who had moved off the other side of the bed and was pulling on his uniform pants.

Chekov gave McCoy an awkward look, and then shrugged at Kirk. 

Jim quirked a lip, settling back into the pillows with both hands behind his head. "No one actually said we did."

"You strongly implied it though, you bastard! You knew I'd freak out! What did you… what'd he pay you, kid?" McCoy's glare was back in place.

"Nothing… no, it doesn't matter." Chekov's face was pinking up and he hurried to get the rest of his clothing on before rushing towards the door. "I am sorry, Doctor McCoy. I should not have become involved. Please… forget this ever happened."

"You don't have to run-"

But it was too late; Chekov had gone. 

McCoy rounded on Kirk, who was still lazing against the pillows, though he did note that the man's expression was slightly less relaxed than it had been. "What in hell did you think you were doing? All of this, for a prank? Jesus Jim, I'm a doctor, not a comedian! I don't need you making me think I've had sex with a seventeen year old kid that you know damned well has a crush on me. Not to mention what you've done to him! Did you even think for one second how he'd be feeling after last night?"

To his surprise, Jim Kirk's expression became distinctly contrite and he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Well…" McCoy felt somewhat deflated – he'd been building for a much bigger scolding, and Jim's rapid remorse was unexpected. "He's young; he'll get over it. But don't you ever do anything like it again."

Kirk huffed as if he'd expected the bigger telling-off and was almost disappointed it wasn't forthcoming. "Cross my heart, Bones. I promise to never again attempt to get you laid by the one person who actually showed an interest in you."

"Amen to that," McCoy said, closing the subject.

~//~

It was three days later when McCoy next saw Chekov. 

McCoy was halfway between the bridge and Medical when the kid rounded a corner in front of him. Chekov stopped dead in his tracks, giving McCoy a startled look, and then dropped his eyes away, his cheeks pinking up in what McCoy found himself thinking was oddly adorable.

He ought to say something, he decided. "Chekov. About the other night…"

"Please forget it, Doctor McCoy." Chekov still wasn't looking at him, though he hadn't moved. "I have."

But clearly he had not. 

And McCoy couldn't quite bring himself to forget how good the young man had felt in the bed next to him. He was beginning to think he would be feeling less annoyed with the whole thing if they had all just had sex.

"No, Chekov…" What was the kid's first name again? Remembering was a struggle, but that didn't mean McCoy didn't care about Chekov's feelings. "Pavel, isn't it?" At that, Chekov managed to meet his eyes and nod. McCoy went on carefully, "I'm sorry about the way I reacted. I shouldn't have got so drunk that I didn't know what I was doing, and I most certainly should not have allowed the captain to dictate that night's entertainment." He felt awkward but Chekov's expression made him determined to continue; it had to be worth the effort. "And I'm sorry that I don't remember anything of what we said or did. If I…" He cleared his throat, looking away from Chekov's frank – and yet somehow adoring – gaze for a moment. It did weird things to his equilibrium to see such… interest portrayed in the young man. "If I insulted you or hurt you in any way-"

"It's alright, Doctor," Chekov interjected. "You did neither of those things. I chose to accompany you and Captain Kirk to his quarters. I had hoped for something like it before, although I did not realize that you and he…" Chekov looked uncomfortable, but just as McCoy was thinking he should try and guess what the rest of the sentence was, Chekov continued, his eyes dropping away, "That you were – I am not sure how you describe it in English – but the closest I can think of is that you come as a set."

"I'm sorry?" McCoy was having trouble processing the point Chekov was trying to make.

Chekov's cheeks had definitely pinked up as he met McCoy's eyes again. "That if I wanted you, I would also have to… to accept that the captain would also want my attentions."

"Oh," McCoy said stupidly, failing to see for a moment longer. " _Oh._ No… no, that's not true." He raised both hands as if warding off the idea.

"It's not?" 

One of Chekov's eyebrows had kinked in the most delightful way to show his puzzlement, but McCoy needed to focus. "No, it very much is not."

"But you have been trying to put me off for some time, while the captain has done everything he can to make it clear that you and I should… and it was only when you were very drunk and saying things…" Chekov went even pinker. "Saying things that someone should only say to an intimate partner, and the captain was smiling and winking at me, that I understood."

"My God, what did I say?" McCoy let out before he could stop himself. He waved a hand and shook his head immediately; he really didn't want to know. "Never mind. Anyway, what I'm saying now is… that while Jim and I do have something of… an intimate relationship…" There really was no other way to describe it. "We… are not bound by that. He takes lovers… of his own, and I… I… do not, usually." 

McCoy's own embarrassment was extremely high by this point; he could barely believe he'd said as much as he had, but he needed to make clear to Chekov that he and Jim were not a matched pair by any means. It was going to be harder to explain why Kirk would be encouraging Chekov to be with them both when clearly the man was doing his best to get McCoy laid, but what was he thinking? Of _course_ Jim wanted the kid too – _he_ was the one who was probably under the impression that he couldn't have Chekov without McCoy, knowing how the kid felt.

Running a hand through his hair awkwardly as he considered all this and Chekov frowned at him with a baffled air, McCoy took a couple of deep breaths, trying to think where to go in the conversation from here.

"I am confused," Chekov said at last.

"You're confused, kid… you have no idea." Anger swelled through him suddenly – not at Chekov, but at Kirk. "Jim Kirk has a hell of a lot to answer for. I was perfectly happy ignoring your interest and allure – you're far too young for a man of my age to even consider… what I may have been considering… and I… Why are you smiling?" 

"You think I have allure? That I am attractive?"

"Well… of course… of course you are, but-"

"And you have been considering doing things with me?" 

Chekov was still smiling, but McCoy was feeling more and more uncomfortable.

"No… yes… maybe! But you’re barely legal! _Are_ you legal?" McCoy wasn't even sure.

Chekov nodded, taking a small step forward. "I had my eighteenth birthday three weeks ago."

"Oh." McCoy's heart was thumping hard. The kid was standing way too close and McCoy thought he may just have talked himself out of any further excuses, which was extremely disconcerting. "Happy belated birthday," he managed, wondering how he was going to get out of the situation now.

"Thank you. It is customary in my home country to offer the birthday person a kiss."

"Uh…" And before McCoy could even think of a response, Chekov was there in his arms, pressing his warm and eager young lips directly onto McCoy's all-too-ready mouth, his tongue finding its way inside.

McCoy forgot completely what his objections were and gave into it; sensations rippling through him and sending blood southward and away from any thought.

It was only a fake-sounding cough from behind him that made him remember he was in a public place, not to mention that there were far too many years separating him from the delectable young man in his arms for him to have any expectation of this being anything more than a momentary lapse of reason on his part and a youthful whim on Chekov's.

"So, you found each other again," Jim Kirk said with a wide grin as the two separated. "Looks like the apology was successful, anyway. What say we all celebrate it with a drink in my room?"

"You've got to be kidding me…" McCoy started, and then remembered who he was talking to. "You do know this is how we got into this mess in the first place?"

"Yes, yes, but let's forget all that," Jim said, taking McCoy's arm with a hand. He wrapped his other arm around Chekov’s shoulder and turned to look at the young man. "Now, I know we all got off on the wrong foot the other night, and you are by no means obliged…" Jim guided the two of them along the corridor with him as he spoke. "But Bones here doesn't know what he wants most of the time and needs my guidance in such matters of the heart. I may need to kick start things for the two of you, although I am impressed with what I just witnessed; it's not like him to be so forward." He turned to McCoy now, not allowing him space to speak. "I won't let you back out of this now, though. It's obvious the kid wants you and that you want him just as much, but I know you – any excuse to cause yourself pain and misery…"

And there was more along these lines until they were all three standing in the middle of Jim's cabin.

McCoy found himself unable to interrupt; sometimes Jim’s charm could overcome even McCoy’s qualms in odd circumstances, and with Chekov equally as quiet, this was one such time. 

“Now,” Jim was saying, rubbing his hands together, “Where is that vodka? Let me find it while you two get comfortable.”

McCoy frowned, giving himself a slight shake to regain his senses. “Hold on a minute. What are we doing here?” He looked around the room and then glanced at Chekov before focusing on Jim getting glasses out of a cupboard and beginning to pour vodka.

“I think Captain Kirk is getting us a drink,” Chekov said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Since we just cleared up some misunderstandings… we should celebrate, no?” 

Chekov had the most hopeful look on his face, and considering he’d just kissed the kid in the hallway in full view of whoever happened to pass, not to mention probably giving him the impression that McCoy was only too happy to pick up where they’d left off the other night, the situation was going to take some careful handling to extract himself from without causing Chekov a lot more pain.

McCoy rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. “Well, I could definitely use a drink, anyway.”

Jim handed him a glass before he had time to change his mind, and McCoy downed half of it in record time, wondering how it was he let Jim Kirk talk him into anything, and behind that a little voice – just barely heard behind his recriminations to himself – was telling him that if he didn’t go for this now he might never get another chance, and frankly, if an eighteen year old ensign was willing to go to bed with him the least he could do was get on with it.

Chekov seemed to be downing just as much vodka as he was, McCoy realized after the third glass Jim poured for each of them. “Saluté. Are you sure you should be drinking these so fast, Chekov?”

“Pavel.”

“Pavel?”

“I think he’s suggesting you should call him Pavel – you know, Bones, his first name – instead of his surname. After all, if we’re ever going to get you any cozier than you currently are, first names would be a good start. Pavel, this is Leonard, or if you’re lucky, he’ll let you call him Bones.”

“Don’t call me that, kid,” McCoy growled, then conceded, still frowning, “Leonard… or Len will do.”

“Len.” Chekov smiled brightly, his pretty eyes shining with what – if he didn’t know better – McCoy would have almost thought was hero-worship. It couldn’t seriously be though, not for Leonard McCoy! 

“And the captain is Jim, in case you hadn’t picked up on that before,” McCoy managed, his voice still rough.

“Right,” Jim said, putting his own glass down and reaching for McCoy’s and Chekov’s. “Enough of this dilly-dallying. Let’s get the party started!”

“Uh… what did you have in mind?” McCoy was sure he must be looking as apprehensive as he was feeling.

“How about we all take off an item of clothing?” Jim’s smile couldn’t have been wider.

McCoy blinked, unsure where to even start, but Chekov was having no such reservations. He was already removing his boots and socks. McCoy stared at his bare feet, a shiver of desire running through him – he had no idea feet could be so sexy…

“Come on, Bones, don’t be a slow-poke!” Jim already had his tunic, and was peeling an under-layer as he spoke.

“Uh…” Flicking his eyes back in Chekov’s direction, he realized the young man was also removing his tunic. “I guess if you can’t beat ‘em…” Slowly, he reached for his own tunic, focusing carefully on his shaking hands as he did so. By the time he was about to lift the edge, two sets of hands were helping, and McCoy nearly jumped as a naked Chekov kneeled at this feet and attacked the fly of his trousers. “Holy Christ…”

The kid was even more beautiful naked, and Jim Kirk was doing all he could to encourage Chekov to assist in removing the remaining items of clothing that McCoy wore.

McCoy couldn’t say a word, and as his trousers and underwear were tugged downwards, his erection sprang free, angled disturbingly close to Chekov’s mouth. Chekov looked upward from under his lashes, smiling, and then his tongue became visible between his lips. The tantalizing sight made McCoy’s breath hitch, and then… Oh God! Those soft lips were sliding wetly over the head of McCoy’s cock. It was like sliding into heaven on a warm and delicious cloud.

“That’s it, that’s just perfect…” Jim Kirk murmured into McCoy’s ear, sending a shiver right through his body. Kirk’s body was aligned with his from behind – and McCoy couldn’t even remember him getting there – and moving in a slow rhythm that only added to the perfection of what Chekov was doing to his cock.

“Oh God…” McCoy couldn’t manage to think of anything other than the sensations running through him.

Jim’s cock was sliding between McCoy’s ass cheeks, and as McCoy moved as carefully as he could manage – shallow little thrusts back and forth inside Chekov’s mouth – the feeling of need grew inside him. Kirk knew exactly what McCoy liked, and his ability to sense exactly when to do what meant it wasn’t long before he was shifting away, encouraging McCoy to bend just slightly forward over Chekov’s still-bobbing head. The only place for his hands at this angle was on Chekov’s shoulders, and while this new position meant he could no longer see Chekov’s face – in fact his forehead was now hitting McCoy’s abdomen as he moved, and who knew how erotic that was going to be?

“Jesus, God, Jim, get on with it!” he burst out, scared he was going to come in the kid’s mouth before Kirk got his cock inside.

“Hold your horses! Unless you want it dry?” Jim retorted.

Before McCoy could reply, Jim was pushing his damp thickness in, exactly where it needed to be, the blunt tip hitting his prostate. “Fuck!” It was all McCoy could do to hold back, his fingers digging into the skin of Chekov’s shoulders.

And then Chekov’s sucking grew more intense, Jim’s thrusts more regular and there was no stopping the blinding white light of the best orgasm McCoy had had in months. “Fucking Christ…” he breathed out, jerking between the still-insistent fucking he was receiving and the now-gentle action on his dwindling erection.

Jim pushed in a few more harsh times, groaning as he reached his own climax, then pulled away rapidly, allowing McCoy to straighten up, his cock falling flaccidly out of Chekov’s mouth. His legs shaky, McCoy found his way to the bed, dropping to sitting, and swallowing hard as he lifted his eyes to look at Chekov still kneeling on the floor, his stiff cock still standing proudly at attention. 

“My God,” Jim said from where he was slumped in a nearby chair, making no effort to cover his naked body. “The kid looks even more gorgeous now he’s sucked you off. Think we should do something to repay the favor for the poor guy?”

Chekov whimpered, his damply swollen lips reddened deliciously. 

Kirk was right though; they – or perhaps just _he_ , McCoy thought with a surge of sudden jealousy – needed to give Chekov something now.

“Mine,” McCoy growled before he even realized he’d done so.

Jim cocked his head slightly, but didn’t disagree. Chekov was staring straight into McCoy’s eyes, after all, so it must have been fairly clear where _his_ interests lay. “I’ll be in the shower if you need me,” was all he said as he left the room.

Chekov didn’t move, but his eyes were speaking volumes. 

“Come here, kid,” McCoy managed.

It didn’t take a second asking. McCoy’s lap was suddenly full of teenage Russian, and his hands automatically went around the kid’s ass, keeping him there while also caressing his perfect young buttocks. Chekov’s cock bounced against McCoy’s stomach and whimpering noises were coming from his mouth again.

“Maybe we need to switch things up a bit,” McCoy told him, sliding sideways and assisting Chekov to lie on the bed. “Move up onto the pillows.”

Chekov, looking worried, nevertheless did as he was told, half-sitting against the head of the bed, squashing the pillows behind himself. McCoy smiled reassuringly and then rearranged himself, taking Chekov’s erection between his lips and moving slowly. He glanced upward, delighted by the pleasure-filled expression now present on Chekov’s face. His eyes were closed and the smile curving on his mouth was just about reward enough, but McCoy didn’t stop until he received the payment he was after – Chekov’s hot, salty come pumping thickly down his throat.

Chekov accompanied his orgasm with low moans of utter delight, and McCoy found himself shivering with the pleasure the sounds gave him.

Reluctantly he let Chekov’s sated cock from out of his mouth and shifted to lie beside him, smiling at the bonelessness of his young lover. “Good?”

Chekov’s eyelashes fluttered and he managed to nod, but his eyes didn’t open. Digging into the bedding, somehow McCoy managed to get Chekov and himself inside it, huffing gently to himself when the kid plastered himself to McCoy’s chest and tucked his head under his chin, obviously settling in for the duration.

There was nothing to do but give into it.

“Well, well, look at you two,” Jim Kirk’s voice came from the doorway. “Looks like I’ve lost my room.”

McCoy tilted an eyebrow at Jim, now fully dressed and slouched comfortably in the doorframe. “How long have you been watching?”

“Long enough to know you gave him what he needed; not long enough to see delivery of said need, although the resulting satisfaction is as cute as a button, asleep there on your chest.”

“Yeah, yeah, mock away.”

“Oh, I’m not mocking. I’m impressed with how relaxed you look; you should get laid more often, and if I’m any judge, that won’t be a problem from now on.” As McCoy started to move, Jim waved a hand. “Stay where you are; I can always find a bed somewhere else for the night. You can thank me later.”

He headed towards the exit, humming happily.

“Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“I may as well thank you now.”

“And I will accept your thanks; after all, if I hadn’t got things underway, you’d probably still be stammering away in the corridor, waiting for doomsday before you made a move.”

McCoy looked fondly at the tousled curly hair of the sleeping youth on his chest. “Maybe not quite that long,” he replied, looking at Kirk once more. “Anyway, we won’t be here when you get back. I’ll make sure the sheets are changed.”

“Of course you will,” Kirk grinned, “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now make the most of my generous offer; maybe even a rematch when he wakes up, if you’ve got the stamina, old man!”

“Who you calling old?” McCoy retorted, but Kirk was out the door and it was already sliding closed.

He huffed quietly to himself, stroking through the soft mop of Chekov’s locks, and relaxing into the bedding. He had been so sure that this was the wrong thing, and yet now they’d done it, somehow all he could think was how having Chekov in his life – and bed – could only be a good thing.

And as long as Chekov continued to be willing, McCoy was sure he’d do all he could to get naked with him more often from now on.

~//~

END


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